


Spider Snake 2: the Sequel

by JaxMan



Series: SpiderSnake [3]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-02-19 02:23:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaxMan/pseuds/JaxMan
Relationships: Angel Dust/Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: SpiderSnake [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641484
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

Scene: It's been a few weeks since Angel moved in with Pent. 

Angel awoke in a bit of a situation.

He was kept immobile by the immense serpentine tail coiled around him, legs to shoulders. Pentious's body was awkwardly smushed against the spider demon's face.

"Um."

Pent couldn't hear him.

"...Pent? Penny? Babe?"

The viper's only answer was a sleepy mumble.

"Hey! Wake up? Please?"

A few seconds of squirming were only met with another murmur from the sleepy serpent, this time accompanied by a slight squeeze from his tail. Angel thought about waiting for his boyfriend to wake up. It was a comfortable position, to be sure. His head lay just above the snake boy's hips, the perfect spot use as a pillow.

An idea came to the slender spider. Maybe he needed some other kind of stimulation.

Gently, he planted a kiss on Pent's abdomen. No response.

The next one went lower.

And so did the next.

The fourth one got a reply from the dozing demon, who stretched and loosened just a little. Maybe this wouldn't take so long.

The next kiss was right on the money, as Pentious moaned in his sleep. His body had its own response, just as planned.

This would be easy. Angel could finish a man with a glance, if he wanted. He delicately placed his lips on the tip, just as he'd done many times before. Almost there...

And then Pent awoke.

He looked at Angel.

Angel looked at him.

"Mornin,' sunshine." 

It was hard not to smile as his scales began to turn pink. Sir Pentious uncoiled enough to let Angel stretch. By god, his expression was worth it all.

"How about some music?" Pent's scales were still flushed as he forced a nervous smile. He slid out of bed, over to the record player across the room. Angel saw him sifting through a pile of records from a number of decades, most gathering dust.

"Maybe some jazz? I don't listen to much myself... Oh! Tchaikovsky! Maybe a bit too intense..."

Was he talking to Angel, or to himself? The spidery demon closed his eyes contently, stretching out across the bed. 

"How about this 'Mamba?' Is that something you like?" Angel had to smile.

"Vertical or horizontal?" He knew Pent wouldn't get it, but he had to make the joke anyway.

"It, uh, it doesn't say." He examined the record case with a puzzled expression. God, what a sweetheart.

He picked up another record, paused, and gave a mischievous little grin.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one."

"What's it called?"

"It's a jazz single from someone called 'Charles Mingus.'"

Angel hadn't heard that name before. Must have been from after his death.

"What's the song?" 

As the needle hit the groove, a single sax began playing.

As Pent slithered back into bed, the trumpets joined the tune.

As he wrapped around the poor spider, pinning his arms to his sides, the drums kicked in, setting off the ensemble.

"The song's called 'Moanin.' Now, where were we...?"

As scaly hands caressed his face and neck, Angel couldn't help but return his lover's impish expression.

"Good choice, babe~"

...

'You can have anything in Hell.'

Of course, that expression was only used by the rich and powerful. And those poor fucks who thought they could make it big. Hell, the place of new beginnings! Hell, where all sinners had a chance! Sometimes, a hopeless romantic would add another part.

'You can have anything in Hell but love.'

Angel Dust had believed that, once. But now, cuddling with a gently snoring Sir Pentious, he knew better.

They'd used to be enemies. How about that? Hardly seemed possible now. Maybe he should wake the snake? Penny liked to keep a schedule, and it was almost noon...

A sleepy little murmur escaped Pent's lips, as he held Angel just a little tighter. Nah. It could wait.

The spider was happy where he was.

...

Parts to order, machinery to tune, tea to make... There were only so many hours in the day!

Sir Pentious would have had more, had a certain slender sinner woken him before noon, but no matter.

His company had been worth it.

Angel had left early in the afternoon (going out with friends), and already his presence had been missed. They weren't joined at the hip, not like in the first few days of living together. As lovely as that had been, it was hard getting work done from bed.

Speaking of work, there was much to do. His latest creation had been coming along splendidly, but still needed work. The exhaust vents were completely uncovered. Anything could slip in!

...Angel would have made some kind of sexual joke about that. No, he would have smirked at Sir Pentious and raised an eyebrow.

Pent sighed, and hoped he wouldn't be too long.

...

The Slippy Mick Bar served two drinks. Nail polish remover, and cheap beer. There was also wine, but nobody would buy it. Not more than once, anyway.

Cherri Bomb didn't have many regrets. She regretted being kicked out of every other bar this side of the city, though.

"Two beers an' a shot." The hoglike bartender (Dan? Derek?) grunted. Probably meant 'sure,' but who could say?

Where the fuck was Angel? He was supposed to be here an hour ago.

"Y'know what? Just one beer. No shot."

Angel could buy his own drinks.

...

Devices of torture, war machines capable of leveling cities, vast, Victorian factories, where even children worked as slaves. There were some technologies that even Sir Pentious despised.

That god damn 'Hellphone' was one of them.

"Hello? Who-?"

He swore as his clawed fingers slipped across the screen, leaving scratches in the cheap glass.

"Hey, Edge- uh, 'Sir Pentious,' you there?"

Ah, lovely. Just lovely.

"Yes, har- er, '*Cherri Bomb,*' can I help you?

"Where's Angel?" The frustration gave her voice an edge.

"He's... not with you?"

...

Where the fuck was Angel?

Pent lay on his back, his brain twisted around that one question. Endless scenarios, each worse than the last, invaded his mind. Had he overdosed? Had he been kidnapped? Had his old habits gotten the best of him? Maybe he never even-

No. Angel loved him. He had told Pentious, under no uncertain terms, how he felt.

Then where was he?

The serpentine demon recalled a rumor, something he'd heard from someone who knew someone. Supposedly, the only way to be permanently rid of someone, in Hell at least, was burial in concrete.

He deeply regretted remembering this.

...

'You can have anything in Hell.'

That's what some people said. Rich people, or the unfortunate fucks who thought they'd someday make it big. Who thought they could have money, fame, anything. Just as long as they worked hard enough. Occasionally, some hopeless romantic would amend this.

'You can have anything in Hell, except for love.'

But Angel knew better. You couldn't have shit in Hell. Even if you got a million dollars, someone would be waiting in line to steal it.

Someone like Valentino.

Angel's pimp had been... dissatisfied with recent events. The spider's recent love had no doubt taken a toll of Val's profits. His most famous actor hadn't been working for almost a month!

So it was no surprise he'd want Angel back. By coercion, of course.

Valentino didn't use force unless necessary. Didn't want to damage the merch, after all.

This must have been a special occasion, then.

Valentino's office was never an inviting place. The tacky shag carpet, the godawful neon colors, it would've been a travesty even without... 

Well, without Valentino himself.

"Angel, Angel." 

God, he hated that voice. The rasp, the fake, condescending friendliness, even his breath, a mix of mint, coffee, and liquor. Angel Dust held his tongue. No need to piss off the boss. Well, more than he already had.

"You've been... disobedient."

He wanted to slap the fucker, but the fear of retribution was too much. He just dug his nails deeper into the faux-leather couch.

"So I'll ask simply. Will you cooperate?"

Not like he had a choice.

"...Or would you like a fresh one?" The pimp dropped his grin, letting his irritation shine through.

The bruise under Angel's eye still stung. Not the first the pimp had given him. Not likely the last.

What would Pent think if he saw this? Would he feel pity, or disgust?

Angel felt the latter, personally.

Mostly toward himself.

...

Who would even want Angel gone? Who in his past career...

Valentino. The spider's ex-pimp.

There was nobody else Sir Pentious could think of, nobody else who had it out for Angel. The evil son of a bitch who owned one of the largest companies in Hell. And Pent's boyfriend was his biggest star.

Seconds later, he was fumbling about with that damnable 'hellphone' again.

"Cherri! Cherri, can you-"

"You don't have to shout! Fuck!"

"Ah, sorry."

"Found him yet?"

As much as she was trying to sound casual, the worry dripped from the cracks.

"No."

Silence. He continued.

"I think Valentino did."

There was a pause on the other end, then:

"You bring the tech. I bring the bombs."

Was she serious? Had she seen his security?

His concerns wouldn't sway her.

"You love this man, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"And he wants your hot snake body."

"Yes- wait, 'hot?' You think-"

"So what's the problem?"

"Hired security! Armed goons! He has a damned army!"

She hardly paused.

"And you have those egg-boys. And your gadgets. And I have bombs."

"Cherri, you- you know that's not-"

"And we got a fucking genius inventor who's been a pain in my ass ever since I got here. I'll be at your lair in ten minutes."

Damn, they were really doing this.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a wonderful day at the Hazbin Hotel. The guests were as orderly as could be expected, and the smell of shrimp gumbo eminated from the kitchen. 

And a certain demonic doorman had been keeping himself *quite* entertained.

Already, these 'residents' were proving themselves quite a crowd. They were drinking, gambling, fighting, and indulging in every other sin they could fathom.

What a show!

Alastor's quiet glee was interrupted by a knock at the door.

More guests?

More *failures?*

He flung open the door, brimming with enthusiasm, ready to greet the newcomer.

"Hello, there! Welcome to the 'Happy Hotel!'"

The one-eyed demon at the door did not return his smile.

"You're Alastor. The Radio Demon. Right?"

Ah. Another 'adoring fan.' No matter. One autograph or feigned praise later, and she'd be on her way.

"And to whom do I owe the-"

"Angel Dust needs your help." 

That was... new. The Radio Demon paused for just a moment, before continuing.

"I'm sorry, who-?"

"Name's Cherri Bomb. You knew him?"

The poor thing looked as if she hadn't slept in days! Perhaps she was confused.

"Yes, briefly."

"Sir Pentious and I are attacking Valentino's headquarters. You in?"

For the first time in a while, Alastor was at a loss for words.

This cyclops demon had just asked *him* to abandon his post, leave his new hobby, and squash some petty tyrant, for the sake of some annoying former associate? Was she joking?

"I'll pass, thank you."

Of course, she did not like this answer, though she did try to smile.

"C'mon, it'll be a good fight! Ya know, an entertaining one?"

She wanted to tempt him, did she? The Radio Demon could have crushed Valentino any time he pleased, but it would have been no more joyful than stomping on the roaches he so much resembled. But perhaps such a battle would make for a good show...

"And who else is joining you and this, um..."

"Sir Pentious. You, uh blew up his airship?"

Ah, yes! Good times for all. Except for him, of course.

"...Just the two of you?"

"Yeah. And you, if you-"

"Afraid not, my dear! I have a job to do, after all."

A shame. Such a one-sided fight would hardly make for good entertainment. Unless...

"...But maybe an associate of mine can help!"

This might be the show he was waiting for.

...

He just had to be back before daylight. Do that, and give up his earnings without a fuss. Avoid Pent, Cherri, Molly, and anyone else he knew. Focus on the johns.

And remember: Valentino had eyes everywhere.

Angel's first night back on the job had been, well, shit. The customers hardly noticed, or cared. He'd been practicing that grin for decades, and it showed.

Shame it wasn't the real thing.

No! Bad Angel! He had a job to do. He'd gotten too used to living with Pent, that he'd forgotten who- *what* he was.

A fucking whore. To be used, abused, and left to rot. It was all he'd ever been, and all he deserved. As he made his way to the next client's house, he tried to remember what it was like to enjoy this.

He couldn't.

...

"I'm sorry, but I have to look after the Hotel! I can't just up and leave!"

'Cherri Bomb,' as she called herself, didn't seem to like that answer. She leaned forward in her plush sitting-room chair.

"You're just going to leave him? C'mon, Charlie! People say you're a good person!"

Plenty of demons had tried to use her compassion for their own purposes. Charlie was used to saying 'no.'

Vaggie, however...

"Excuse me, but who the fuck are you to say that? She's been busting her ass helping people, while you've been out fighting a war on the streets!"

Charlie wouldn't have put it that way, but still.

"Are you crazy? This is Angel we're talking about! He said you guys were his friends!"

That was... an exaggeration, at best.

"He wasn't our friend! He treated this place like a joke! Did you even see-"

Cherri Bomb jumped out of her seat, volume rising to match Vaggie's.

"He's not like that anymore! Ever since he and Pent-"

"Bullshit!"

That was enough.

"Hey, can I just get a word in, here? Please?"

The two demons glared at each other a second longer, before settling back down. Neither spoke.

"So, Cherri Bomb, you were saying that Angel's different? How so?"

The punk-looking demon morosely sighed, sinking back into her seat.

"He's hardly drinking, won't do cocaine with me, and... Ugh, it's like he doesn't even *want* to join the turf wars! I gotta drag him to do anything!" She snapped up, shocked.

"Fuck, do you think he's depressed? God dammit, what did that snake do to him!?"

Angel? Sober? Was she serious?

"Babe? Why you smiling?"

"Vaggie, it's working! He's trying to be better! He could be the first soul to be redeemed!"

She clearly wanted to argue, but didn't.

"If you think he can be redeemed, I'll go help him."

Charlie tried to smile.

"No, Vaggie. You stay here."

"What? I thought you-"

"I'm going."

...

She wasn't serious, right? 

"Vaggie, it's alright. I can handle myself!"

No. No, she couldn't-

"Hell yeah, sister! I knew I could count on you!" Cherri Bomb was happy, at least.

"Charlie, wait. You... sure you don't want my help?"

She didn't mean to sound needy, or overprotective, or worrisome. But Charlie wasn't a fighter!

...Was she?

"I've been here longer than you, Cherri Bomb, and Valentino combined. And besides..."

A small flame leapt from her outstretched hand, hardly a flicker of her true power.

"Magic."

"Charlie, I can help! You don't have to go alone!"

"I won't be alone. Sir Pentios and Cherri Bomb have my back!"

"Babe, I can fight!" She wasn't staying behind. No fucking way.

No. Fucking. Way.

...

Just one day back, and he almost felt like himself again.

That was a lie, but Angel wasn't about to tell his boss that. He could try to find a way out, but why? Valentino would find him again.

The schedule would be simple. Each night, visit clients. No detours, just there and back to the studio. He wouldn't have a place of his own anymore, just a bunk in the studio. Also, his pay had been temporarily suspended. At least it wasn't permanent. He was still an employee, not a...

Ah, fuck.

An 'employee' could've quit whenever he wanted, would've been paid, and wouldn't have to sleep in a fucking studio bunk!

But a slave couldn't.

Angel had to leave, Valentino be damned (again).

It was almost night. Almost time to visit the johns.

How would he do this?

How would he escape?

...

"You said we'd attack late at night."

"It's 9 pm! That's plenty late!"

Angel wasn't kidding about this chick, huh?

"It's not even dark!"

"It's close, though!"

Three demons sat on a rooftop, looking out over the corporate HQ, awaiting Edgelo- 'Sir Pentious.' Four demons would raid the facility. Five would come out.

And one evil son of a bitch would pay.

"Was he supposed to be here by now?"

The gray one was getting annoyed. Hard to blame her.

"You'll know when he gets here."

The blonde was even less happy, looking at the ground all worried. No, not worried. Sad?

"You okay, Charlie?"

The one-eyed girl (Veggie, right?) tried to comfort her girlfriend, softly placing a hand on her shoulder and giving a tender smile. God, get a fuckin' room.

"We're not doing too much damage, right? I mean, some of these people are just bystanders..."

What a sap. As 'Veggie' tried to soothe the mopey princess, Cherri heard engines approaching.

This was it.

...

Nine thirty, just half an hour until the job.

This client wanted him dressed like a pizza delivery driver, just like in 'Extra Sausage.' He rehearsed the lines in his head. 'Oh, I'm sorry, you wanted cheese? Please don't tell my boss! I'll do *anything* to make it up to you...'

Not his best work, but it had fans.

He was almost to the door when the attack started. First, a few shots. No biggie, probably just an employee shooting some coworkers. It happens.

Then, the front door fucking exploded.

A hulking brass machine lumbered in as the workers scattered.

Only one demon could've built such a fucking menace. As the dust cleared, the armored cockpit (heh) swung open, revealing a familiar face.

"PENNY!"

"Angel! Get in!"

He practically jumped into Pent's lap, holding on with six arms as the heavy contraption closed once more. Was this a dream? If so, he didn't want to wake up.

"Angel, I'm glad you're back, but do you mind... easing up a bit?"

He hadn't meant to squeeze so hard, the moment just kinda got to him. One last thing came to mind.

"Hey, sugar, ya bring my gun? I got a bridge to burn."

...

Charlie's arcane fire scoured the landscape, putting the fear of Satan into Valentino's corporate security. Cherri tossed the occasional bomb, not that it made much of a difference. Vaggie watched the door for Pent's... vehicle? Robot? Big fucking machine.

"There he is! He's on his way out!"

Charlie eased off the flames and took a breath.

"I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

Vaggie surveyed the battlefield. Eggshells, rubble, and screaming, burning guards littered the place.

"It, uh, looks like most of them cleared out. Eventually."

The mechanical mass strode back out of the building, and raised an arm. She guessed that meant victory? Even though Sir Pentious had tried to destroy the entire Hotel, Vaggie had to admit he had style.

"Fuck yeah! Let's go!"

It looked like Cherri agreed.

...

Five demons met at the regroup point, a grimy bar called the 'Slippy Mick.'

Charlie had suggested someplace nicer, but Cherri refused. It seemed this was the nicest place she hadn't been kicked out of, besides the Hotel. And she had no interest returning to the Hotel.

Sir Pentious looked exhausted, yet almost as relieved as Angel. The pair looked inseparable, and who could blame them? Charlie looked on warmly at the couple. They'd both changed so much for the better. She took Vaggie's hand and squeezed.

"Christ, you guys... I didn't expect a fuckin' army!"

Angel said it as a joke, but the sincerity shone through.

"Sisters stick together! Fuck yeah!"

Cherri Bomb emptied another shot, placing the empty glass with the others. She had a disconcertingly high tolerance for liquor, Charlie noted.

"Hey, you needed our help. I hope your, ah, *former* employer has learned a valuable lesson on, um... Friendship? Harmony?"

"Incredible violence!" How could Cherri even talk after all that booze?

"...And love!" Vaggie had her back, at least.

Some tearful thank-yous and awkward goodbyes later, Angel and Pent left for their home, while Charlie and Vaggie got ready to return to the Hotel. Cherri decided to stick around and drink, to nobody's surprise.

The couple was mostly silent on the way back. Vaggie tried to make conversation, but the memories of burning demons drowned her out.

Charlie had done that. She had caused those flames. She had hurt those people. 

Her father would be proud.

...

Hell fucked with your head. 

It made you think that you're supposed to be an asshole, just because everyone else is. It made you think you deserved to suffer, and that everyone else should suffer with you. It made you think that there was no going back. Angel didn't know if he could ever get to Heaven, but wrapped up in Pent's arms, he didn't care. 

This was close enough.

As they made their way home (in a less conspicuous vehicle than the Mech), Pent held him close, as if afraid he'd fall out of the serpent's arms and slip away forever. As they arrived, the cheers of the Egg-boys drowned out any conversation they could've had. Angel was getting used to them, hell, they were even kind of cute.

They showered together, but nothing lewd. They were just too tired for that. They went to bed silently. There wasn't much to say, except...

"I love you."

It was all Angel wanted to hear.

"I love you too."

The next morning found them cuddled up under the blankets, blissfully asleep, as Pent's tail coiled gently around Angel.

Val would return, of course, but they'd be ready.

And no matter what, they'd have each other.


End file.
